It was the wright thing to do
by saphique
Summary: Endora/Samantha. Warning : Extremely angst. Extremely consensual. Extremely incestuous. Endora will always be there for Samantha.


Title : It was the wright thing to do.

Fandom : Bewitched

Pairing : Endora/Samantha

Rating : M

**Warning** : Extremely angst. Extremely consensual. Extremely incestuous.

Summary : Endora will always be there for Samantha.

Tonight, Samantha is silently crying in her giant and empty bed. The covers are perfectly laid out on Darrin's side, proving his long-term absence. The fresh air coming from the opened window cause Samantha's hair to caress her reddened cheeks, but some blonde hair tend to stick, covering her fatigued face. There is sobbing. There is stretching of mouth, wincing of emotional pain. Still, the room remains quiet, even with the small movements of her shoulders creating waves caused by her cries.

This night resembles all the others. The same tale: the absent workaholic husband whose wife must be perfectly normal, with no divergence nor particularity. How is it possible for her to remain a happy and fulfilled wife if she feels threatened as a woman and as an individual? Prevented from acting as herself. Forbidden to be a witch. It seems like her mother's concern begin to come true, her justified worries towards the suburbs and closeted life: Samantha feels trapped.

Trapped and robbed.

Gathering her strength, Samantha manages to calm down. Rolling onto her back, she inhales while closing her eyes. She must repeat again her last attempt. Wanting to move objects by magic, she failed. She must try again. Fatigue and hurting must have made her lose her focus. Straightening up on her elbows, she sits and wipes her eyes. She looks at the opened window, wiggles her nose and wishes to close it. Nothing. She repeats, again and again; wiggling, pointing, mouthing…

Trapped and robbed.

Defeated, her head falls back, just like the rest of her body, and she lies down again in the cold sheets. Is it possible that disavowing her witch nature might have made it fade, disappear, leave her being? This couldn't be happening… Never she had the intention to deny her powers, her identity, her ancestors, her mother…

Picturing that colorful figure and that distinct laugh, Samantha's cries worsen. Endora. What would think her dear mother when she'll find out about this horrible loss in her being? Endora represents the perfect witch, generous if respected and incredibly talented, not to mention powerful, merciless, sometimes play-full and always beautiful.

Trapped and robbed.

Still silent, the tears begin to slowly escape her bright eyes. What is she becoming? What has this life brought her into? Facing the wall, she stares towards it, searching for answers that aren't there. She used to be so proactive, now she is reduced and subjected to being submissive.

Then, the recognizable perfume. The exquisite and expensive smell. Samantha can feel light movements on the mattress at Darrin's side, though she perfectly knows it's not him. Everything in the atmosphere is too much tender, too much delicate and too familiar now, at this time. Samantha doesn't move, trying to fake being already asleep.

« My sweet child… »

Released and safe.

It's impossible for the blonde witch to contain her cries. She lets her body tremble as she welcomes the loving person.

The perfume intensifies and the presence is shown, gently lying by Samantha's side. Endora's head lean on her daughter's shoulder, while her arm delicately traces invisible circles on her upper arm. Simultaneously her body calms itself. She means to reply, to verbally acknowledge her mother's presence. Instead, her muscles begin to relax. Endora's slender body is perfectly layed out all over Samantha's back, pressing every curve on every curve. The hand that was circling her upper arm now slide down to her hips. The motherly lips kiss the nape of her neck.

« My Samantha…my gentle daughter… »

Samantha shivers. She knows what will happen. She knew it would happen. Endora knew it, have felt it approach since the first day she have met what's-his-name. Countless times, she tried to warn Samantha, discreetly warning her of what could happen. And now, here they are.

Samatha tries not to wonder about what Endora is thinking, she puts all her efforts into what they are both feeling. Trust. Devotion. Fidelity. It's what is required.

« I've heard your cries. I've felt your tearing, I've seen the wound expanding in your soul… »

Slowly, Endora's caressing hand begin to stroke, exploring towards her stomach. Samantha closes her eyes, and in approval, she lets her body shift to be in better contact with her savior.

« I'm here, now… Don't worry…You'll never cry again…»

« I've lost my powers, Mother… »

Samantha thought her mother was going to lecture her, saying redundant sentences, repeating 'I told you so', but she hears nothing of the sort. Endora came to her for a reason, for a significant and caring reason.

The gentle hand caress her stomach once again. They take away the urge to cry, repressing it with tender feelings.

« You were wright…You always are. And it's all my fault, it's not Darrin's…it's no one else's… »

« Sshh… my poor child. Be quiet, sweetie. I'm here now. It's going to be alright… »

Samantha knows it's true.

It is going to be alright because she feels the inviting fingers of the devoted hand slipping under her nightgown. Her skin is warm, hotter since the first touch, and the hand is soft and experienced. The long fingers gently tickle the thighs. Endora's mouth is going down Samantha's throat, not daring yet to use the tip of her tongue. In total confidence, Samantha let a moan escape. To her own surprise, Endora also respond with a moan. Her hand circles faster, creating wider strokes, visiting each thighs. Both breathing are ascending. Samantha wiggles much more, opening her mouth and closing her eyes as she feels the warm breath on her neck. Endora unconsciously draws her body closer to her daughter's, pressing her breasts on her back. The lavender lady does not show any sign of doubt, though she is waiting for Samantha's approval, even though they both know it is the right thing to do. Endora's heartbeat increases in a drastic way as Samantha's thigh lifts up and is hanged on her thighs, allowing further access.

« Don't worry my darling, pl-please don't ever worry again… »

« You're here, I know you're here, you're there… »

Long fingers find their way under the white underwear and they both gasps. By surprise. By devotion. By desire. By magic. Eyes closed, Samantha lets herself begin to moan. Both of them can feel the magic operating. Endora's magic is accentuating in Samantha. It's an electric feeling none of them have ever experienced. It's not warm, not hot, not cold. It's devine. As Samantha can't suppress another moan, Endora cannot hold herself any longer. As she let her flat tongue explore her daughter's throat, she slides two delicate finger into Samantha's welcoming centre.

Here they are. It's what was meant to happen. They knew it would eventually come to this, with Samantha pushing back her witch nature.

Never. They have never discussed this procedure in the past. Certainly, they knew its existence. Apprehended at first, Samantha realises it comes naturally to them. Almost familiar.

Endora gently thrust her fingers inside, in and out, as Samantha slides side to side, up and down, connecting to the magical event she feels building inside.

« The—the powers are coming back to you… let them- insert, let my powers take part in you… »

Her thrusts are harder, such as her kiss on her throat, on her bare shoulder, on her back. The moans are becoming groans, and wet slurping sounds are heard.

« I'm offering every-everything to you, my darling…oh, Samantha, please take-take…»

Her mother is out of breath, moaning and kissing. So she does. Samantha slides two fingers close to her mother's and circles around her own clitoris.

« Yes! Yes! There, do you feel it? Can-can you feel my powers, taking, part into you? »

One last thrust into her, and it's explosions. Colors, sounds, vibrations. Magic. The world has new dimensions, new meanings, new electricity. It's magic, again, in her body. Samantha stops breathing and Endora is astonished, moved, thrilled. With one final circle of her own fingers, Samantha collapses back onto the bed, not moving away from her mother.

Endora kisses her everywhere. Her forehead, her shoulders, her back, her cheeks, with her fingers still buried inside Samantha.

« It…it worked… »

Suddenly, Endora starts to cry. Her daughter, a witch again, is safe. Saved. Rescued. It has been the wright thing to do, it always has been. And she always knew it. And right now, Endora does not mind all those years warning Samantha about it, about her losing her powers and about them having to create this bond afterwards. She does not mind, because she also knows it's going to happen again.

With tenderness, she slowly withdraws her fingers and hold her hand flat opened on Samantha's center, as an affective gesture. She looks up at the blonde witch; her face has changed. She has gained colors and the sparkle in her eyes has returned. Grateful, Samantha cups her mother's face with her hands and stare directly and intensely into her blue eyes. They smile while admiring the tears forming into their glance.

It was the wright thing to do.

« Everything is going to be alright, my dear child… »

Relaxed, although re-energized, Samantha feels like her old-self again. She wiggles her nose and the window closes itself instantaneously. Endora kisses her again, feeling accomplished and delighted.

Samantha thought. Had she wished for this? Has she gotten herself into this suburbs lifestyle so that she could experience this with her mother, relying on her?

« I'll always be there, my dear daughter…»

She disappears. Samantha knows it will occur again, in a couple of years.


End file.
